Rise of a new generation
by girlwithoutaface
Summary: post Hogwarts...Okay, so draco is a dissatisfied death eater. he seeks help from harry and the gang to help him overthrow the dark lord, but is that all he really wanted.
1. draco

Disclaimer: I assume you know that since this is fanfiction, I don't own anything you have read in any of the books. However I do own Ina, and am wiling to sue if anyone else uses her.I am just playing. If anyone feels like they would like to extend on the story email me at sdotson@webbschool.com. I promise to give credit where credit is due. Also, feel free to write a sister story, just don't blow my character out of proportion, like Scarlet O'Hara in the sequel to Gone with the Wind, Scarlet.  
  
Author's note: This fic was primarily written because I am sick of seeing Draco and Hermione paired together. You people are screwing with the system!!! Anyway, it shows Draco for the arrogant asshole (God bless him) that he is. Those with week constitutions should not read. There will be brutal beatings, killings, child molestation and rape, abuse in every form of the word. I cannot promise much sex, because I am not good at writing literary porn (as some of you have proven you excel at!). Sorry.  
  
Chapter 1  
Draco  
  
"Some of them want to use you Some of them want to get used by you Some of them want to abuse you Some of them want to be abused."  
--Eurythmics  
  
Draco awoke one morning without the customary warmth of his wife's flesh pressed against him. He shivered as he sat up, squinting in the already brilliant sunlight as he searched the extravagant suite for the familiar thin silhouette.  
  
"Hey you!"  
  
Draco turned into the pillow being slapped into his face. "Watch it now," he said as he pulled the woman back on the bed with him. "We wouldn't want to cause anything regrettable in only one year of blissful matrimony." He picked up the pillow and returned the playful whack against her backside as she stood to get up.  
  
The woman paced around the room for a moment, before collapsing in a chair. "How much longer must we stay here?"  
  
"I don't know. Father said he would notify us when it was safe to make a move."  
  
"Oh! When will they quit treating us like children?"  
  
"I suppose when you two decide to begin acting as adults."  
  
Draco sat up straight in bed and the girl stood up quickly, keeping her eyes lowered to the ground. Lucious Malfoy stepped into the room through the grand fireplace.  
  
"Well, Draco, you are looking very dignified. I am so glad you mother and I taught you to get up and dress in the morning. Or at very least not to go to bed with wet hair.  
  
Draco glanced toward the mirror, seeing a young man with matted disheveled hair looking back at him. In a hasty attempt to look presentable, Draco combed his fingers vigorously through his hair but to no avail. His effort just made the mess worse.  
  
"Well that certainly helped, didn't it?"  
  
Draco flushed slightly at his father's sarcastic criticism.  
  
"You two will remain stationed in America for approximately two weeks, then shall move into Canada." With that, Lucious stepped through the fireplace and back into Malfoy Manor.  
  
Draco let out an aggravated hiss.  
  
"What goes around comes around."  
  
Draco grunted at the weak attempt to console him.  
  
"He was right you know," the girl said. "About your hair I mean."  
  
"Shut up you!" Draco growled and threw a book at her from the nightstand.  
  
The girl gave a yelp of shock as the book struck her across the head.  
  
"Oh! Calm down Ina! It was only a paperback!" he said before pulling the sheets back over his head. 


	2. lucious

Chapter 2  
Lucious  
  
"He washed his hands and he dreamt of his rewards  
  
A seat in the house of Lords."  
  
--chumbawumba  
  
Lucious Malfoy stormed into his living room, startling his wife and upsetting the pictures of the mantle.  
  
"This is a vacation to him! He doesn't work. He just sits in bed all morning. He and that little bitch. It's her fault you know. She shouldn't have gotten involved."  
  
"Now Lucious, be reasonable. First of all, you were the one pushing Draco to get married anyway. Second of all, he should be treating this as though it is a vacation, so not to draw attention from the Order, and Third he would probably love the chance to prove himself if you would just give it to him." Narcissa went back to the needle point she had been working on.  
  
After fuming for a moment too long, Lucious came up with a weak attempt to justify his most recent temper-tantrum. "I wanted him to marry Pansy Parkinson."  
  
"Well thank God he didn't!" Narcissa interjected. "I am not having cows for grandchildren."  
  
Lucious smirked. "They could take after Draco.But that is beside the point! This girl.Ina.I don't know her. I don't know her family. I don't know anything."  
  
"Well, that certainly isn't the first time. For your information, Ina's mother and I vacationed together in New York every summer and I am quite fond of her family."  
  
There was a pause in conversation. Narcissa went back to her needle point and Lucious sat down with the Daily Prophet.  
  
"We did make one mistake though," Narcissa said quietly.  
  
"And what was that."  
  
"We let him marry her before he got the mark. We should have waited until his primary devotion was the Dark Lord, not to his wife.  
  
"Agreed." 


	3. Ina

Chapter 3  
  
Ina  
  
"Green is the color of her kind  
Quickness of the mind deceives the mind  
Envy is the bond between the hopeful and the damned."  
  
--Pink Floyd  
  
"Two more weeks," Ina muttered after Mr. Malfoy departed, "And then on to fucking Canada!!!" She picked the copy of Governmental Studies Draco had thrown at her from the floor and hurled it against the wall in anger, sending a landscape print to the floor, cracking the glass and frame.  
  
"Well, we won't get the security deposit back now."  
  
"I don't give a shit! I want to go home. This is not the way we are supposed to live Draco. You and I. We aren't made to follow someone blindly into the fire. Especially with no profit."  
  
"We are profiting from this."  
  
"Where is it? I haven't seen a damn knut since we started this. You promised we would be running the show within months. It's been almost a year, Draco. That is a year of my life wasted in America waiting. What the hell are we waiting for?"  
  
Draco leaned against the headboard, considering Ina's question. "I don't know," he said with a sudden realization. "I have no idea what we are doing here. Why the hell did they send us here?"  
  
"I'll tell you why. They want us to stay out of the way. You're old man has put us here so we wouldn't have the chance to show him up, because you know we could do it."  
  
"True."  
  
"I'm in right mind to just pull out and teach them the kind of damage I can do."  
  
"What are you suggesting?"  
  
"Think about it darling. The death eaters, a noble cause, but what have they accomplished?"  
  
"They have the whole world terrified."  
  
"Right. But what is the fear worth? What is Voldemort----Oh God Draco it's just a word----trying to do? He has his status. Now we are sitting in stalemate. We aren't making money, losing it for that matter."  
  
Draco thought of his quickly diminishing back account.  
  
"We aren't passing governmental reforms. We are just sitting here. Nothing."  
  
"We can't overthrow the entire circle by ourselves."  
  
"Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zambini."  
  
"Okay, that makes five----"  
  
"Seven, Greg and Blaise are married."  
  
"Still not enough."  
  
"Potter, Granger, Weasly---"  
  
"What? They won't work with us."  
  
"You're right, but they will work against the circle."  
  
"Right, but our ideals don't coinside."  
  
"Diplomacy. Get your owl. We have letters to write." 


	4. minerva

Author's note: Ahhhhhhhh. Now that I know someone is reading and enjoying the basic concept, I shall feel a touch better about wasting mental energy writing this.  
  
Minerva  
  
Minerva McGonagal looked from the letter in her hands to the three stern faces in front of her. "How is it," she thought, "that these three children turned so grim?" She had watched Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.....no, wait.....she was a Weasley now, wasn't she? The ancient professor shook her head. "I am glad you are not here to see this, Albus," she prayed silently to the missing headmaster. "We had higher hopes for this generation."  
  
"What do you think?" Hermione asked.  
  
Minerva looked up. Of the three, Hermione had changed the most. She was colder, seldom smiled, always wore her hair back in a tight bun. Minerva could see wisps of gray in her hair. "It can't be Hermione! You are only Twenty-seven." But it was, and Hermione's humor was growing as gray as her hair, becoming more and more annoyed with slight offences to what Hermione thought were very natural standing rules.  
  
She looked back down at the letter, reading the neat hand of the newest Malfoy:  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
After considering our options, my husband and I have decided to seek political asylum with you in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although I did not attend at this institution, Draco assures me we will be safe as defects from the Death Eater Army. In return for your protection, kindness, and silence, we shall offer any intelligence on the movements of Death Eater activity. Please do not send word by owl, for it might be intercepted by our now mutual enemy. Leave your response by the grate that you found this. I shall come for the answer in exactly one week's time. Thank you.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Ina Malfoy  
  
Order of Merlin, First Class.  
  
"What should we do?" Harry asked.  
  
"I have never trusted a man who would expose his neighbors, but, if these two are truly seeking asylum, they shall receive it. We shall, however, not take chances. They are never to be left alone. Letters sent and received must be screened by all members of the Order, and they are not to leave the premise until this war is over."  
  
"Yes Ma'am," all repeated in unison. McGonagal smiled. "Just like old times. How I wish they would return!" 


	5. Severus

Author's Note: another review! How thoughtful of you! You wish for the characters to be fleshed out a bit more. Give me a few more chapters and I believe you wish shall be granted. (when you say flesh, I shall assume you are talking about giving them physical appearance and personality. Physiognomy has no part in this at all. Evil can have beautiful or horrid looks).  
  
Severus  
  
The sun was high in the morning sky, but Severus Snape was far from the star's warmth or light, buried away in his personal library with all of the deep green curtains pulled tight over windows. The only light came from a faint glow on his desk by a candle burnt all the way down to the nub. Severus's long spiny fingers coiled snake like around his quill as he wrote a letter.  
  
Dearest Mila,  
  
I am sorry to disturb you. I would not, even for all of the gold in the world, ever speak to you again if it was my choice, and you know this to be true. Considering the last conversation we shared, I got the distinct impression that you were not getting along well with Siberia. Believe me you are the last person in the world I would crawl to for assistance, but I need something you alone have. Albus has agreed to temporarily suspend your dismissal to the eastern half of the continent if you agree to help me, and, if all goes well, he may lift the banishment permanently.  
  
Yours truly,  
  
Prof. Severus Snape  
  
Severus read and reread the letter several time before sealing it in an envelope and sending it off with his owl.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
Snape turned to see gray Albus Dumbledor smiling at him from across the room. He had aged severely since Severus last saw him. He had deep circles under his eyes from sleepless nights full of coughing and hacking. The old man had about had it. He was feeble, bones seemingly made of glass. It reminded Severus of an old figurine his mother had. He had never been allowed to touch it. It was fragile, made to be looked at from a distance. But his eyes. Burning balls of blue life, still strong, still hard. They were the only thing Albus had left of himself. "How has such a great wizard come to this?" Severus wondered to himself.  
  
"Have you mailed you letter yet?" A faint smile played on the corners of the old man's lips. He walked toward the window, long royal blue robes swishing around his slight frame. His knarled hands grasped the curtains and, with an abnormally graceful motion, swung them open, letting the sunlight finally become lord the room. Severus squinted at the sudden intrusion into his kingdom. His pupil quickly contracted to shut out the horrid, unwanted, visitor. "You really shouldn't sit in the dark, Severus. It is bad for your eyes."  
  
Severus's eyes refocused, immediately sending an irritated glare at the still smiling Headmaster. "You are enjoying this too much, you know?"  
  
Albus chuckled deeply, the sound resonating warmth into the frigid room. "Seeing you uncomfortable? Why, one of the few pleasures I indulge myself in! But seriously, we need her. Their faith in you is wearing thin. And suddenly Mila, the only woman to be admitted into the inner circle, whirls back into the picture. Rescued from exile, by non other, than Severus Snape!" 


	6. Mila

Author's note: here is another original character for you to digest. Enjoy. If you have suggestions, I am open as always.  
  
Mila [pronounced MEE-la]  
  
"Leave me alone!"  
  
"Why? Why should I? You never once granted me the same courtesy, or anyone else for that matter!"  
  
"Please have mercy! Mercy!"  
  
"Like the mercy you showed my husband? And child?"  
  
"I was young. I didn't know what I was doing!"  
  
"You killed them. A three-year-old would know what was being done!"  
  
"Please. My husband is dead and I am left with a daughter. Who is to care for her if I die as well?"  
  
"That is between you and God."  
  
A flash of bright green light illuminated Mila's nightmare, shattering her sleep into shards of glass, stabbing her very soul. She couldn't breathe. Her head ached, but the sharp pain in her temples could never match the incessant pain in her chest. "She died," Mila thought. "She died."  
  
Mila glanced at the clock. 4:30. She had finally gotten to sleep at 1:00. Her nights were getting shorter. She was finding it hard to find peace within her. The solitude of her icy prison was beginning to eat away at her sanity.  
  
"I can't stay here," she said to herself. "This place, this place. Much too quiet. Too quiet for even a mouse. Noise. Noise. Voices. Any voice. Anyone at all. PLEASE!" Mila was trembling. Her voice rose to a manic level.  
  
"Hello Mila," she began talking to herself. "Hello. I havent' seen you for a while. Have you been holed up here? How long has it been? Yes I know. 16 years. Sixteen long, hard years." Her eyes settled on the dagger she used to open letter she never got. She now understood why it had been one of the only things Snape had allowed her to keep.  
  
"Clever Bastard, isn't he! Oh, you didn't want to kill you did he? He leaves you that happy pleasure, bless him. Well I have had it. It's too quiet. Much too quiet."  
  
Mila picked that dagger shaped object up, holding it to her throat, when she was distracted. A Noise! A small flutter of wings out of the icy wind. How small, but so welcome. Life!  
  
The owl perched on Mila's desk, letter in familiar untidy scrawl clenched in his beak. Mila took another look at the dagger, and then decided to take the letter from the owl.  
  
"Who? I know this writing." Mila pondered the possible origins of the letter before the idea to actually open it came into her tangled mess of a mind. Mila's eyes bugged with sudden realization.  
  
"Severus." 


	7. Draco part 2

Draco, part two  
  
Draco felt an unfamiliar sense of calm and stability as he crossed the threshold into a place he grew to know better than his own home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His mind wandered back. Back before the Mark, before Ina. Ina. His wife. His. Compulsively, he put a possessive arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. Despite all of the doubts and technical errors that were running through his mind about her plan, the touch of her body gave him a certain maternal reassurance. She made him feel empowered, as though, for her, he could do anything in the world. Even unseating the greatest, most horrific wizard of all time.  
  
"You went to school here, didn't you?" Ina asked.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I almost miss it."  
  
The two walked through the corridors in silence, Draco's arm still holding fast to the one thing he felt was worth the amount of energy and money that went into keeping her there. "What is she thinking right now? Is she thinking about me?" Despite Draco's cool exterior, he felt constant insecurity concerning his wife's fidelity, even in her thoughts.  
  
"Ah, here we are," Draco said as the pair approached the old headmaster.  
  
Albus smiled a warm greeting. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy. And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy."  
  
Ina gave the old man a friendly smile. "Call me Ina [pronounced EE-na]," she insisted.  
  
Draco's right eye twitched, though otherwise his composure remained steady. His wife was smiling at another man! "He's just an old man, it doesn't mean anything," he kept telling himself, but his jealousy began to flare as his wife slipped from his grip, took the headmaster's arm, and chatted with him congenialy about pleasantries that neither party truly cared about. Draco stood for a moment, stunned at his wife friendliness to a man she hated, enraged that she had left him standing in the hallway. With a sneer, Draco scuffed his feet behind the lividly conversational pair, his hand thrust deep into his pockets, and began to think of how he would avenge this dire action. 


	8. Lucius Part 2

Author's Note: whhhhew! I am so sorry I haven't written in ages! I hope to get better about this!  
  
Lucius, part 2  
  
Lucius sat in a heavily padded armchair, sulking about his son's escapades and his own lack there of. He looked across the room at his wife, who had taken up her original task of needlepoint. His eyes traced the lines on her face. "When did she get so old?" he thought to himself. Her skin was going slack, her hair had lost its luster, her breast sagged slightly. He looked at the picture on the ornate side table beside his chair of him and Narcissa on their wedding day. He noticed the changes his wife had made since the picture, glanced back at her, and then laughed.  
  
"What?" Narcissa asked, eager to be let in on even the smallest bit of amusement.  
  
He held up the wedding picture. "You," he said. "It is amazing to think that you were ever that young. How much you have changed! But you still have that obnoxious arrogant air around you. That has remained the same." He let out a mocking fake sigh. "How I wish it had been your breasts!"  
  
Narcissa's eye's bugged. "How......What gives you.......Me! Arrogant! Look who's talking! And let me tell you, you are not spring chicken either! Ooooooo, Lucius, sometimes I could just wring your neck! What gives you the right too.....of all the audacity!" She stood. "Get out! Get out right now! I don't want to see you again for the rest of the night!"  
  
He smiled to himself. "With pleasure, my lady." And with that he walked out of the room. He paused in the foyer to look at himself in the grand mirror. His own face was worn and loose as well, his eyes had dulled and his hair was beginning to thin. "She's right, you know," a traitor voice in his head said, "you aren't a spring chicken either. And she looks a bloody hell of a lot better than most women her age."  
  
"Well," Lucius said, "I guess I will have to find one younger." With that thought in mind, Lucius walked out the back door and made a direct path toward a swanky pub with a horrid reputation.  
  
Upon Lucius's entering, the bartender looked up from his flock of drunkards. "Hello Lucius!" He walked from behind the bar to greet his most prominent regular. "What'll it be today? An ale, or perhaps some vodka?"  
  
Lucius smirked. He loved the attention he got there, but hated the attention he got for being there, especially from his wife. "No, not today," he responded, then went on nonchalantly. "Actually, I was wondering if Mary was working tonight."  
  
The bartender gave a perverted, nasty grin. "Yeah, yeah she's in the back. I reckon she'd be anxious to know you was calling," he said. He turned, the grin gone and mumbled under his breath, "No good rich bastard! He should at least buy a drink. I hate them coming down distracting my girls," the shouted, "OY MARY!"  
  
"YEAH?" came the reply from the kitchen.  
  
"MALFOY'S HERE TO SEE YE."  
  
There was a clatter to pans being hastily cast aside, as a lusty looking Mary came bursting through the door. "Lucius, baby! How are you?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and his wound around her waist.  
  
"Well," Lucius replied. "And you?"  
  
"Better now."  
  
"All right you two," the bartender interrupted. "I don't want nothing dirtying up my tables. Get on outta here if yer gonna do that!"  
  
Mary led Lucius by the hand upstairs into the usual room, then shut the door and faced her employer. Her arms were back around his neck and his hands on her ass as they went through the prenuptial foreplay, and then onward. 


End file.
